


Pinnacle

by partsofthewholepicture



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Hurt Stiles, M/M, POV Derek Hale, POV Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 18:55:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2161419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/partsofthewholepicture/pseuds/partsofthewholepicture
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Stiles doesn't know how to deal with being pushed away by Derek who is practically stranger. Or how Stiles almost leaves and Derek actually cries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pinnacle

Derek feigns being tired when he comes home from work, brushing Stiles off him and retreating into the bedroom in silence. Stiles places his hands on the counter, sighing down at the dinner he made. 

“Welcome home, honey. My day was fucking great, how was yours?” he mutters beneath his breath.

He wishes he could find the words to draw Derek out of his shell, but he knows pushing will only cause an even deeper rift. There is a fine line he now treads, but he isn’t really sure how they reached it in the first place.

He will come home from work at the same time everyday so it isn’t as though Stiles is concerned he has found someone else to occupy his time. He will just come through the door without even saying hello and close the bedroom door until he feels the need to emerge some time later on. Stiles tries to make dinner every night so Derek has something positive to come home to, but the food ends up growing cold as Stiles eats alone. He has given up even trying to engage in any semblance of conversation when they are together unless Derek speaks to him first. Usually it becomes sitting together in a strange type of soundlessness until the time comes for Derek to go to bed. He will kiss Stiles goodnight -a chaste peck on the cheek, if he’s lucky- and then Stiles is alone once more. He no longer tries to engage in any physicality with Derek, he can only handle so many rebuffs. 

Sleeping next to Derek no longer feels safe; it is now just two people trying to occupy a small space as they drift further and further apart.  
Stiles assumed it was just a phase since Derek had just begun this new job. He had been laid off from his previous job, so this one was just something he had found so they would be able to continue paying the bills. Stiles was working as well, meaning they were not able to spend as much time as they had been when Derek wasn’t employed. Almost two months should have been enough time to adjust to the settings of the new job, but Derek was still just as withdrawn with no indication of things turning around for the better.  
Placing a hand over his mouth, Stiles pushes the extra plate of food away from him and takes his own to sit on the couch alone for yet another meal. He turns on the television to avoid the feeling of total silence permeating the apartment, barely tasting each bite he takes. It makes him wonder how Derek can handle eating alone when they used to have all of their meals together, even if it was just in front of the television or grabbing some greasy food from the place down the road.

Stiles knows their relationship has never been conventional by any means, but he never imagined it would reach the point where Derek would shut him out so strongly. It felt like he was living with a stranger. Derek had been hesitant in the beginning of their relationship, never really wanting to give into his feelings and admit them aloud. Stiles had been patient because he knew how difficult a time Derek had when it came to emotions. He didn’t trust easily and relied on his anger to keep himself in check. When Derek suggested they find an apartment together, Stiles knew it had taken a lot for the offer to even come to fruition. He had said yes because he wanted to be with Derek as much as he could. But now, he isn’t sure if he made the right choice as he sits alone eating his lukewarm dinner and watching some rerun of a show he doesn’t even like. He pushes the food around the plate for awhile before getting up and throw the remainder in the trash, putting Derek’s food into the fridge so it will stay fresh.

No noise emerges from the bedroom, only the low humming of the television fills the apartment, causing Stiles to wonder if he should check on Derek. He has been worried but has maintained his distance behind the walls erected between him and his boyfriend recently. It could just be a simple inquiry about how Derek’s day went. However, he holds back once again and decides to spend the remainder of his evening watching sitcoms to distract him from engaging in more negative thoughts.

Finally, Derek emerges from the bedroom without even grunting a hello. Usually he would come home from work and wrap his arms around Stiles, pressing his face into the crook of Stiles’ neck and murmuring how it felt nice to come home. It was never a huge display of affection, but it was enough to reassure Stiles he was loved. Now all he is gifted with is possibly a look in his general direction or, rarely, a snippet of conversation. In the beginning, Stiles would try and engage in light hearted conversation to see if he could get Derek to crack one of his stunning smiles, and sometimes it would earn him at least a small upturn of the mouth. However, it only seemed to irritate Derek if Stiles would ask him questions about work or even just breathe the same air. Mostly it had become him waiting around to see what kind of mood Derek would be in for the rest of the night, rarely would it be similar to ones they had once shared. Stiles stopped trying after the last time ended in Derek storming out and not coming back until the next morning.  
He wants to believe tonight is going to be different though. This weekend Scott is getting married and they are supposed to be preparing for the trip to Los Angeles for the wedding. Stiles is going to be the best man -of course- and Derek is supposed to be his very dapper date. He just isn’t sure how well the trip is going to go if he and Derek are barely speaking with one another.

The hope he holds is quickly squelched. Derek walks over to the fridge and pulls out the plate of food, absently placing it in the microwave as he searches around for a clean utensil to eat with. He doesn’t even notice Stiles made his favorite steak or homemade macaroni and cheese. After all, it is just food to him. There is no significance in the type of meal or even who made it. 

Stiles watches out of the corner of his eye as Derek takes the food from the microwave and takes a seat next to him on the couch. There is a strange sense of calm coming over him from being this close to Derek like they are still a normal couple.

But it is fleeting when Derek flinches just from Stiles brushing his fingertips along Derek’s forearm, and the spark of happiness he even dared to have for the short time has been doused. He can’t really explain the mixture of emotions swirling through him from the way Derek recoiled from his touch, but it mostly leaves him feeling broken and alone. He snatches his hand back like he was the one burnt, sliding further towards the arm of the sofa to increase distance between them.

Derek doesn’t even look at him.

He shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts. It doesn’t help.

“I was able to take off work this weekend.”

It catches him off guard to hear such a simple sentence emerge from Derek’s mouth. He bites his lip for a quick moment, running his hand through his hair to process such a monumental occasion. He is aware of the sarcastic remarks sitting on the tip of his tongue, and he knows he won’t be able to hold them in much longer. The sentence can almost lull him into the false sense of security which would state he and Derek now have a functional relationship. So many times he dared to believe he would have a chance in hell with Derek Hale before they had gotten together but all of those hopes and dreams have deteriorated beyond repair. Having his chest thumping isn’t helping, and he knows Derek can probably hear his heart even though they are sitting a fair distance apart and the television is on. What can he say really, without all of it sounding bitter or hollow. He should have known better, but he was stupid to trust in Derek, and to think they would solve their problems in just one evening.  
Knowing they will only end up arguing if he makes any usual sarcastic remarks, Stiles pretends as though he hadn’t heard Derek, and continues to stare at the television with as much attention as someone with his attention span can summon. He can’t even find the words to explain how badly he has been hurt by Derek these last two months of being shut out, but he is trying his best to protect what is left of his heart. Ten minutes passes before Derek makes another effort to engage in conversation after finishing his meal. He looks at Stiles with frustration, knowing he was heard loud and clear, but he doesn’t push either.

“I was able to take off extra days next week as well,” Derek tries, clearing his throat loudly.

“Why would you do that?”

“I wanted to.”

“That’s funny,” Stiles chuckles. “Because you haven’t wanted to even look at me lately. Why force yourself to spend extra time with me?”

There is no hint of anger in Derek’s tone when he replies. “I am aware.”

Stiles rolls his eyes and grabs the empty plate sitting between them so he can wash it along with his own, and he expects this will be the close of the conversation. Of course, he  
was wrong.

“Do you want some help?” Derek asks,sounding like he is finally making the effort. Stiles can’t suppress the need to drop the plate on the floor, enjoying the sound of the porcelain smashing at his feet.

He turns around again, holding his hands up to indicate it was only an accident he dropped the plate. But he knows Derek isn’t stupid, glaring at him with frustrated hazel orbs. Stiles kicks a bigger piece away from his foot, and shrugs his shoulders. “I guess...you could probably clean up the mess you made.”

He doesn’t even look back at Derek as he walks away, heading to the bedroom to retrieve the bag he had packed earlier in the day. The room looks the same it has since they moved in, a strange blending of Derek’s books and Stiles’ Star Wars and Batman items. On the floor beside the bed are the clothes Derek took off when he got home for work, the only bad habit he really seemed to have with his cleanliness. It looks like the apartment is a mixture of them, but it definitely no longer feels like that. He picks up the bag he stowed in the closet, slinging it over his shoulder before taking one last look around the room; there are random photos taped on the walls, books that Derek is in the middle of finishing or has given up on, and some old posters from Stiles’ teenage bedroom pasted on the walls. Stiles grabs the posters off the wall, not wanting to leave behind more pieces of him for Derek to ignore.

Rolling up the posters feels almost normal, as though he is moving out of his old bedroom to come live in this apartment. He can pretend that he can hear the sounds of his dad helping his pack boxes and asking every so often if Stiles is “completely sure” about this decision. There was still the sense of possibility when he was moving out, he and Derek still had so much left to explore and learn about one another. But he is just fine until he remembers how his dad promised Stiles could come back home no matter what happened. There would be no questions or no judgments. Still, it definitely hurt to think about going back home when he knows his dad is going to be worried about him. Questions will be asked and remarks will be made about how Derek Hale is going to get the ass kicking of a lifetime. Even worse, it won’t just be his dad. Scott will be the same way too when he finds out, but he will wait to tell Scott. But he is sure his best friend is going to know something is wrong when Stiles shows up this weekend without Derek. His body feels strangely numb as he shoves the posters into his bag, taking the last part of himself out of the only other home he has ever known.

He doesn’t dare look around the room anymore. Derek will probably be too immersed in reading the novel he left resting on the coffee table to even notice Stiles is leaving. When he turns towards the bedroom door, he takes a deep breath to hold back any tears he was worried about and takes his beginning steps towards figuring out his life without Derek around. The bag over his shoulder feels light, as though it doesn’t hold all of his belongings haphazardly shoved inside. What he isn’t expecting is to find Derek standing in front of him with the other plate of food from the sink, looking at it as though it is one of the most interesting plates Derek has encountered. Stiles pauses right outside of the doorway, noticing the other plate has been cleaned up. It is hard to pinpoint the look in Derek’s eyes, but he would call it something close to realization. He hasn’t seen Derek look that way since after their accidental first kiss, with Stiles freaking out about possibly being maimed while Derek just nodded like it was what he had been waiting for.  
Stiles points at the plate, unable to stop himself from making a smartass remark.

“You might want to consider eating the food in the fridge and not from a dirty plate that has been sitting in the sink,” he says, smirking at the end of his words.

“Probably,” Derek agrees.

“The extra food is in the fridge if you want it,” Stiles informs him, noticing the way Derek’s eyes have honed in on the bag resting on his shoulder. “It is the pyrex containers on the bottom shelf. There is enough for leftovers tomorrow when you get home from work too. So you won’t go hungry or anything.”

Derek doesn’t speak for a moment, just stares at the bag before putting the plate down on the coffee table carefully. “Leftovers,” he echoes, because he isn’t really sure of what’s going on anymore.

“I am going to my dad’s now though so…” Stiles trails off, not wanting to endure this strange tension much longer. He doesn’t want to see the way Derek seems to be breaking down, looking weak and vulnerable. He has been the strong one, always. “So I will see you around.”  
Derek just stands there. Stiles doesn’t know what the hell he is supposed to do because he realizes he just can’t walk out like this. He hasn’t seen Derek look so helpless since the time he was reminded of his mother and spent the day in bed just staring up at nothing.

“Okay,” Derek agrees quietly, nodding his head as though it was partly his idea because he isn’t quite sure what else to do in this moment. “See you around,” he whispers, his voice cracking the last word and not sounding quite like Derek anymore.

Stiles doesn’t know what how to react because he has never seen Derek display any sign of vulnerability. 

“You made my favorite dinner,” Derek states, gesturing with shaky hands at the plate and trying to keep his voice steady. “But I didn’t even notice. I didn’t even say hello when I came home. I don’t even try to kiss you anymore.”

Derek sighs for a moment, as if he is trying to connect together all of the pieces of the last few months to make some semblance of sense. He doesn’t even look Stiles in the eye. “I don’t even know how it got to be this way. And now you’re going back to your dad’s…”

Stiles doesn’t know the proper response. Because he doesn’t even really know what he is doing himself. He has never seen Derek looking like this and he never expected to be the one leaving. This isn’t how everything was meant to play out for them.

“I made your favorite because I thought it would make your day better. I have tried so fucking hard these last two months to even get you to look at me, but it is always the same old story. You come home and you go into the bedroom doing whatever the fuck you do in total silence. You act like I am not here most of the time. How am I supposed to feel when you just tell me you took off for my best friend’s wedding this weekend? I can’t act like everything is normal when it’s not. I just can’t. You shut me out so badly I don’t even know who you are anymore. We are about as close as strangers, and I don’t want to deal with living like this any longer.”

Derek exhales, letting out a sound that sounds like a choked sob. It hit Stiles in the chest, the sound is so helpless and unlike Derek. He is shaking now, not sure he is going to have the strength to walk out the door anymore.

“Do you want to leave that badly?”

Stiles bites his lip, not sure how to reply.

“I am not going to prevent you from walking out the door. I never wanted to force you into being with me either. I admit I was hesitant when I first realized how I felt because I didn’t know how either of us would deal with the repercussions if it didn’t work out.”

“You never forced me to do anything, Derek,” Stiles whispers.  
“I can’t force you to stay either,” Derek replies.

Stiles drops his bag. “Just ask me.”

Derek furrows his brow, confused. “What?”

“What, you don’t want to ask me to stay?”

Derek doesn’t know how to process what is going on, but he steps closer to Stiles because it seems like the right thing to do. There are a whole lot of things which makes sense anymore, but he feels slightly like himself again when he is so close to Stiles. Once, he was able to just fold himself against the other man, knowing he was going to be coming home to this for the rest of his life. But now with everything so fragmented, he is no longer sure of the protocol. Asking Stiles to stay would not solve all of their problems. This isn’t some movie where they can just kiss and make up, the problems run much deeper and they would be foolish to ignore them. However, it doesn’t stop Derek from bunching his hands into Stiles’ shirt and pulling him close. Burying his face in the crook of his neck, he inhales the familiar scent of detergent and just Stiles before whispering, “I’m so sorry.”

Stiles freezes for a moment, his posture becoming stiff and rigid. He isn’t used to being touched anymore, but his body melts into Derek’s like it is the most natural thing in the world. 

“You can’t just expect this to make it all better,” Stiles tells him, trying to stop his own voice from faltering. “I can’t stay because you say you are sorry, Derek.”

“Then go,” Derek replies, still holding Stiles tightly against him.  
But neither one of them moves. Derek is gripping Stiles’ shirt in his hands with no intentions of letting go and Stiles just has himself pressed against Derek, focused on the calming sensation of his steady heartbeat. One of them should probably let go, but it doesn’t happen. Stiles doesn’t know quite what happens, but he can feel Derek’s breath against his neck quickly before his lips are on Stiles’. The kiss doesn’t last too long, but he can feel the need emanating from just the brush of their lips. He doesn’t proceed to make any further moves, just watches as Derek breaks off the kiss and meets his eyes silently.

“I really should go,” Stiles manages, pulling away to retrieve his bag from its place on the floor.

Derek nods because he knows Stiles is doing what is best for him, and he isn’t going to force him to remain here, because he has learned forcing people to do what he wants often yields terrible results. They both stare at one another as if trying to memorize this moment before it is gone, because they both know once Stiles leaves, he won’t be coming back. But all he would need to do is ask him to stay, because he really does want Stiles to be around.  
They end up going to sit down on the couch, and Derek rests his body against Stiles like the way he used to curl against his mother when he would have rare nightmares. 

A few hours later, Derek has fallen asleep. Stiles wedges himself from beneath Derek, placing a blanket over him so he remains comfortable. He stares down at his bag in the corner and sighs as he goes to put it back into the closet. Because he isn’t going to leave. He can’t.

There’s a thudding in the living room, followed by a string of curse words. Stiles tilts his head to listen, assuming Derek must have bumped into something when he fumbled awake. But then he hears the sobbing and smashing of items against the walls, crashes and shattering galore. He rushes out to the living room, eyes wide as he tries to discern what Derek is doing by throwing everything they own across the room to be destroyed. A picture frame whizzes past his head before the chaos ceases.

Derek stares at him, wide eyed expression matching Stiles’.

Suddenly, Derek is grabbing Stiles’ arm with a tight grip as voice utterly breaks, whispering, “Stiles...please…”

He isn’t holding himself together anymore. Derek is now crying, which Stiles never expected to see. It breaks him too, just standing there with his belongings to leave like this is all some kind of strange dream he isn’t able to wake up from. He is pulled into an attempted hug, more of Derek placing his head against his shoulder and crying. Still, they are back to the point where neither can seem to let the other go.

“You’re here,” Derek states and Stiles can only nod dumbly in response.

“I’m here,” he echoes.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to billard82 [dontgobrienmyheart on tumblr] for being my beta reader. I am sorry this made you cry. also check me out at givesmehale.tumblr.com


End file.
